


if i go on with you by my side (can it be the way it was)

by wthrvns



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 21:26:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29740101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wthrvns/pseuds/wthrvns
Summary: Kent and Alexei fall apart and back together again.
Relationships: Alexei "Tater" Mashkov/Kent "Parse" Parson, Eric "Bitty" Bittle/Jack Zimmermann
Comments: 6
Kudos: 34





	1. if i go on with you

**Author's Note:**

> If you don't write a soulmate AU, do you even patater? It's like a rite of passage. Enjoy my self-indulgent melodrama.

_Kent_

Kent grimaces as he walks up the pathway. The smell of cheap beer seeps into the grass and attacks his senses. There are red solo cups and bottles littered across the lawn and a smattering of people on the porch who pay Kent no mind. The house is shabby, the kind of place where Kent never imagined a person as rich as Jack would choose to live. He pats the keys in his pocket and hopes no drunk students decide to mess with his rental car.

The place is packed when Kent enters. A bass heavy pop song blasts from giant speakers, the reverb shaking in his chest. He doesn’t spot Jack right away, but people start to notice his presence, watching in shock or curiosity. Jack’s teammates find him first, the biology major and his shadow. He greets them, makes small talk to be polite, and then they direct him to another room. Sure enough, Jack is there, leaning against the wall while a small blonde fawns over him. Kent raises a brow at that—the bastard always did have a type. The smaller boy catches sight of him, and his eyes widen.

“Oh my gosh!”

Jack turns around, confused. The smile drops from his face. “Kent.”

“Hey, Zimms. Didja miss me?”

Apparently not. Jack drags him upstairs, probably to hide him away and pretend they’ve never met.

“You have no clue?” Kent asks, incredulously.

“I mean...it could be Montreal, it could be LA, okay? I don’t know.” 

Jack’s eyes follow Kent as he paces.

Kent pauses. “What about Las Vegas?”

Jack avoids his eyes and sighs. “I don’t know, okay—”

Kent grits his teeth. Classic Jack, never giving a straight answer. Jack’s not happy, he’s never fucking happy, and Kent’s finally giving him a way out of this place. “Zimms, just fucking stop thinking for once and listen to me. I’ll tell the GM’s you’re on board and they can free up cap space. Then you can be done with this shitty team. You and me—”

“Get out.”

“Jack—”

“You can’t— you don’t come to my fucking school unnanounced and corner me in my room—” He’s standing now, towering over Kent in his anger.

“Because you shut me out! I’m trying to help!”

“And expect me to do whatever you want. Does this have something to do with the Falconers giving me an offer?”

“Fuck you, Jack! You’re such a dick. What do you want me to say? That I miss you? I miss you, okay?” And he fucking does because Jack was his best friend for three years, and he cut Kent out overnight.

“You always say that.”

Kent can’t keep the words from spilling out, and even as he says them, he wishes he could take them back.

“You think you’re too fucked up to care about? Not good enough? Everyone already knows what you are, but it’s people like me who still care. You’re scared everyone else is going to find out you’re worthless, right? Oh, don’t worry. Just give it a few seasons, Jack. Trust me.”

Jack looks away, the fight suddenly draining out of him. “Get out of my room.”

“Fine,” Kent says. “Shut me out again.”

“And stay away from my team.”

“Why? Afraid I’ll tell them something?”

Kent opens the door and nearly stumbles over the blonde from earlier. He peers up at them with big eyes, and there’s a moment of stunned silence before he scrambles to pick up his keys.

Kent clears his throat, ignoring him. “Hey, well, call me if you reconsider or whatever. But good luck with the Falconers...I’m sure that’ll make your dad proud.”

“It was enough to make you proud,” Jack says to his back before he goes. Kent hesitates but doesn’t turn around. He has a team to get back to.

* * *

There’s a new guy on the team. Technically, Kent is also a new guy, but the Russian defenseman is a week late due to visa issues. It’s his first day, and he’s kept to himself so far, but he watches with visible awe from the bench as Jack plays in the scrimmage. 

Kent absentmindedly rubs at the pads over his heart, where he knows the cyrillic script of his soulmark is taped over. He’s not fluent by any means—between school and hockey, he doesn’t have much free time to practice, but his mom had made a point of him learning the basics.

“ты счастлив?” He wants to ask Mashkov if he’s excited to start playing, but lacks the vocabulary. He settles for asking _‘are you happy?’._

Mashkov looks at him in surprise before his entire face lights up. “ты милый, когда говоришь по русски.”

Kent’s heart stops. _You’re cute when you speak Russian_. He knows every word, has had them on his skin his whole life. He gapes back at him, but before he can respond, Coach is calling Mashkov’s name and he’s hopping over the boards with a bright grin.

The realization throws Kent off for the rest of the day. Jack looks at him funny when he misses passes and shoots wide on an empty net. 

“You okay, Kenny?”

“I’m fine,” he brushes off the concern even though he’s anything but fine. He’s known that he likes boys, and he’s known his soulmate would probably be Russian, but he never considered that it would be his own _teammate_. He thought, if anything, that maybe his NHL career would fail, and he’d move to play in a European league and meet his soulmate there.

Mashkov, or Tater, as the guys have taken to calling him, doesn’t say anything for the rest of the week, and Kent is starting to doubt his own memory. Wouldn’t his soulmate want to, well, talk to him? But Kent is aware that he’s also been standoffish and awkward. Maybe Tater doesn’t want a rude, socially inept soulmate. He’s close to writing it off as some freak coincidence when Tater knocks on his billet family’s door on a Sunday morning while the Bouchards are at church.

“Hi,” he says shyly. “I can come in?”

Kent realizes he’s been rudely staring for the past minute. “Yeah, sorry,” he steps aside and waves him in. They stand silently in the foyer and Kent fights the urge grimace. Surely, if Tater was meant to be the love of his life, talking to him wouldn’t be so awkward. “You can sit. Do you want a soda or something?”

“Yes please,” Tater smiles tentatively.

When Kent returns from the kitchen, Tater is digging through his backpack. He pulls out a little paper box and hands it to Kent. “I’m bring gift for you. Is candy from home in Russia.”

“Oh, thanks,” Kent accepts the small box of chocolates. “What for?”

Tater tilts his head, confused.

“Why did you bring me a gift?” Kent clarifies.

“I’m not need reason to give soulmate gift, no?”

Kent feels his cheeks warm up. “You caught that too, huh?”

Tater laughs, startling Kent. “Of course, how I’m miss soulmate? Your words, they not so special—” he starts, but backtracks at the look on Kent’s face. “I’m mean, is special to me! But is normal words. I hear many people say before, but when you say I’m know for sure.” He tugs down the hem of his shirt to reveal the words on his collarbone, the letters blocky and neat the way Kent writes them when he practices. 

Kent reaches forward and pauses, his fingers an inch away. “Can I?” Tater nods, and Kent brushes his fingers against the mark. His skin is soft and warm, and he shivers under Kent’s touch. Kent gives him a timid smile. He grabs Kent’s hand, rubbing it between his own and muttering about cold hands.

* * *

Kent’s game day routine is fairly simple. There’s no special playlist, and he doesn’t eat the same meal every day like some of the other guys. It hasn’t really changed much over the years. He starts the day with a light breakfast and a single cup of black coffee. He makes sure he gets in a short pre-game nap, preferably curled up with Kit if it’s a home game—he never did get used to napping alone. 

Today is no different. He throws on his suit and gets on the bus at 3:45 on the dot. He does the same warm up routine he’s been doing for years, with the addition of new stretches that come with age. He steals a sip of gatorade from Scraps, taps Swoops on the helmet two times, and tunes out the crowd when he steps on the ice.

Kent takes his place on the blue line for the anthem, ignoring player number one across the ice and the weight of someone’s stare. He grasps the chain around his neck, the one with his grandpa’s dog tags, and presses a kiss to the two gold rings hanging beside them. 

When guys ask about it, he tells them they belonged to his grandparents. Nobody questions it. They can’t see that the inscriptions are written in Russian.

* * *

“You can say it, y’know.”

Alexei raises a brow across the table. They’re in a secluded corner of the restaurant, far away from the chatter of other diners. “Say what?”

“Whatever’s in your head because I can hear you thinking from a mile away,” Kent mutters, taking a sip of his wine.

“What I’m say?” Alexei snorts. “That you make stupid play? You already know this. Game is over anyway.”

“You can’t just call it stupid every time I beat you,” Kent rolls his eyes. Alexei’s always been a bit of a sore loser.

“Is risky play and you know it. Goalie can get hurt, _you_ can get hurt. I’m have to pull you out from under pile. Why you need to win so bad anyway? Is early season game and we’re not even same conference.”

“Well, they don’t exactly pay me to lose,” Kent snorts. “Hey, do you think they have a dessert menu?” There’s no servers around to ask.

Alexei kicks his foot under the table. “Don’t change topic. What’s going on with you and Jack?”

“Nothings going on,” Kent says defensively. Quite literally nothing because Jack has made it very clear he wants nothing to do with Kent.

Alexei frowns at him. “You expect me to believe you not mad at him? You want to play with him, upset he sign with Falconers?”

Kent gives up on flagging down a waiter. “What if I am? Are you jealous?” Kent abandons the high road and aims where it hurts, hoping it’ll force Alexei to drop the issue. He gets a scoff in return.

“I’m never jealous of Zimmboni. I don’t know why you always say that.”

“Oh, really?” Kent gives him a disbelieving look. “So you didn’t cuss him out when you found out we hooked up?”

Alexei ignores him shamelessly. “We’re all young back then. I’m in Providence, you two in Rimouski. We were not together then, and I’m know it was just sling.”

“You mean ‘fling’.”

Alexei waves it off. _“I don’t see the difference,”_ he slips into his mother tongue.

“Whatever you say, big guy. So you guys are good now?” Kent purses his lips, and Alexei understands what he means to ask.

“We’re okay, Kent. He’s always my friend, even now. I look out for him, no need to worry.”

Kent nods, satisfied. He stomps down the feeling that they’ve moved on and left him behind. The waiter comes over with the check.

“No dessert?” Alexei asks, and Kent shakes his head. Alexei hands over his card first, despite Kent’s protests. “You know rule, loser pays.”

Kent lets out a deep sigh as he stands, the familiar post-game ache kicking in. God, when did they get so old? “We better get going. Mariya’s probably waiting for you.”

“You need ride?”

Kent wraps his coat tighter. “Nah, I’ll walk. The hotel’s not too far.” He presses a quick kiss to Alexei’s cheek. “Tell your mom I said hi.”

Snow starts to fall as Kent walks the other way. The air is numbingly cold, but the mark on his chest prickles with warmth.

* * *

_Jack_

Jack can’t breathe. He tries to focus on his lungs, collapsing onto the carpeted floors of a secluded hallway. 

“Jack, fuck, are you okay?” Kent rushes after him. Kent, who was just tangled up with Tater doing—doing _something_ —in their shared hotel room.

“Shit, Jack, calm down. I’m sorry, I know that wasn’t cool of me, I just thought you’d be out of the room for longer.”

Jack catches his breath, and Kent sits against the wall beside him. “You and Tater.”

“Me and Tates.”

“What—how—”

“We’re soulmates,” Kent says quietly.

“Crisse, Kent.” Jack is starting to think the drama just follows Kent around. 

“Trust me, I know. I’m sorry we didn’t tell you. We were just scared how you might react since we're your friends and, well, we’re both dudes. It’s not an issue is it?”

Jack gives him a look. “Of course it’s a fucking issue, Kent.” _The wrong thing to say._

“Wow, way to be fucking supportive, Zimms,” Kent sneers, crossing his arms.

“I’m not saying I have an issue with it,” Jack rushes to explain. “But there’s a lot of people who would if they found out. You need to be more careful.” He shoves Kent lightly. “I can’t believe you bagged Tater, though.”

Kent shoves him back roughly, and Jack laughs. “Fuck off.”

Jack hesitates before speaking. “Really, though. I don’t want you to think I’m, euh, judging you. I think I might be gay too, actually,” he admits, barely above a whisper.

Kent’s face lights up, much to Jack’s confusion. “Really?”

“I mean, I’m not sure. I guess I like girls, but I think I like boys too.” He picks at the lint on his sweater.

“Jack, that’s awesome!” He exclaims, making Jack jump. 

“How is that awesome?” It’s confusing and scary and Jack is terrified that it will ruin his career.

“Because you’re crazy good. And so am I, and so is Alexei. Imagine the impact it would make if three all-stars came out.” 

The blood drains from Jack's face. “You mean like going public?”

“Yeah!” Kent speaks in a low voice, but his excitement is earnest. “I mean, it’d be smart to wait a few years to establish our careers, but it would be so worth it.”

“Are you fucking crazy? You can’t tell people!” Jack hopes his soulmate is a girl so that he can take this secret to the grave.

“I’m not saying it will be easy,” Kent defends himself. “But it has to happen eventually. It would be pretty hard hiding the fact that I’m married to another player.”

Jack’s thoughts are running a hundred miles per hour trying to wrap his head around what Kent is saying. “Married?” He sputters. “You’re gonna get married?!” Kent can’t even commit to a favorite pizza topping. What the hell is he doing thinking about marriage? He always ends up asking for a slice of Tater’s pepperoni, which Tater probably gets for this exact reason, because they’re _soulmates,_ holy shit.

Kent looks at him like he’s stupid. “Uh, yeah? Did you miss the whole ‘soulmate’ thing? If he knows what’s good for him, he’ll put a ring on it,” he references that stupid Beyoncé song and holds his left hand up.

Not for the first time, Jack wonders how Kent always manages to joke even when the world feels like shit. “Lucky him,” he deadpans, dodging the fist that comes flying his way.

* * *

“Jack, honey, where should I put this one?” Eric gestures to one of the boxes Maman has sent over to their new place in Providence.

“What’s inside?” Jack peeks his head through the kitchen door.

“Looks like some old books and movies. Oh! There’s a photo album too. Look at how cute you were,” Eric gushes, flipping through the pages. Jack leans over his shoulder to see and grimaces at the chubby faced boy in the pictures. “Oh my, is that Tater?” Sure enough, the next page is filled with shaky shots of a teenage Tater on their team bus. 

“Yeah, that’s him.”

“You didn’t tell me you knew each other for so long! I thought he was a new teammate.”

“He played with us—with me in Rimouski. Only for two years, though. He was drafted before my third season.”

“They look so young.” He’s looking at a picture taken a few moments later, a second grinning face squeezed into the frame. He doesn’t have to ask who it is, Kent’s features distinctive even in adolescence. “Did Tater know about...you and Kent?”

“He does,” Jack hedges carefully, knowing Eric still harbors some resentment that Jack dated people before finding him. “But we don’t talk about it. It was just a short thing. It’s not my place to say much, but Kent has a...complicated relationship with his soulmate. I think we were both using it as a way to ignore our problems.”

“I didn’t know he found his soulmate. That’s so sad…” He gives Jack a soft smile. “I’m so glad we found each other, honey.”

Jack gives him a peck. “Me too.”

* * *

_Alexei_

There’s a box of things in Alexei’s closet. In it, there are old letters from Russia and milestone pucks from his childhood. There’s also an old movie ticket, faded polaroids, and a copy of sports illustrated with his soulmate kissing the cup on the cover. Alexei keeps this box in a corner of his closet, under a box of Mariya’s off-season clothes.

Mariya is a parent’s dream. She’s beautiful, from a good family, and Russian. It’s a shame her own soulmate will miss out on that, too scared to go against his family’s wishes. The media back home all expect Alexei to propose soon, and they speculate why it’s even taking three years for him to do it. 

She’s not really like Kent at all—the brush of her long brown hair and soft flesh feel nothing like the hard, sinewy lines of Kent’s body. Sometimes, after he fucks her, Alexei lies awake nauseous thinking about Kent and the faceless men he lets touch him. He chokes down the bile and guilt of betraying his soulmate bond, accepting that he agreed to this—a life without Kent. He traces the lines along his collarbone, imitating the phantom touch of cold fingers against his skin. Mariya is a nice girl. They could be happy someday, he thinks.

* * *

“All-low-shah.”

“Alyosha,” Alexei corrects, gently. 

“That’s what I said,” Kent whines, tossing the notebook aside and plopping back onto his pillow. “I suck at this. Why can’t I just call you Tater like everyone else?”

“Tater is for teammates. Aloysha is for family,” Alexei fiddles with the lock of hair that Kent can never quite tame. “Is okay, you get better eventually.”

Kent sighs, tangling his legs with Alexei’s. “Are you nervous?” Members of the Facloners' organization are coming to their game tonight. If things go well, Alexei could be in Providence this time next year. “They’re definitely interested in drafting you,” Kent reassures. “They wouldn’t have come all the way here for you if they weren’t.”

“You’ll come to draft with me, right?”

“Duh. I’ll visit you in Providence too. But only if you use your big salary to pay for my plane tickets,” Kent jokes, snickering when Alexei jabs at his side. 

“Maybe next year Falconers get first pick and we play together.”

Kent rolls his eyes. “If they do, I hope you enjoy playing with Jack forever.”

Alexei frowns. “Any team is stupid not to pick you. Jack is good, but people just say he’s better because he’s Zimmermann. Jack knows this too, is why he’s act like such asshole.” He likes Jack more when he’s not sulking, like when Coach considered switching Kent back to center and Jack didn’t hang out with them for a week.

Kent shoves him halfheartedly. “Don’t say that. He’s your friend too.” 

“Just because he’s friend doesn’t mean he is not acting like dick to you.”

Kent tugs on his ear playfully and Alexei bats his hands away. “Well, no matter where we end up, I’ll visit you.” His expression turns somber. “We’ll stay together, right?”

It’s not even a question to Alexei. “Of course, kotenok.” He presses a kiss to Kent’s forehead.

“Hey, I almost forgot. Since you can’t go back home for spring break, my mom wanted to know if you’d come visit us in New York. We could make a trip to NYC and see all the touristy stuff.”

Lying next to him, Alexei can see all the details of Kent’s face. There’s the scar on his forehead from a high stick, the hint of green in his eyes, and the freckles on his nose. The freckles are Alexei’s favorite—barely visible unless you look up close, like they were only meant for him to see. He would spend a week in the middle of a desert if Kent asked him to. 

“Tell her I can’t wait.”

* * *

“We should stop doing this.”

Alexei forces his drowsy eyes open. “What?”

Kent avoids his gaze but continues. “Going back and forth like this. What’s the point? We tried breaking up my senior year, and that didn’t work. Then, when I got drafted we decided to put hockey first, and look at us now. I can’t—you’re my soulmate—I don’t think I can cut you out completely. But if we can’t be together anymore, it has to be for real.” Kent looks him in the eyes. “I need to learn how to be without you.” 

Alexei feels numb. It feels like he’s in a stranger’s body watching someone else’s life fall apart. 

Kent takes his silence as agreement and continues. “And I think we should see other people”

His soulmate wants to be with somebody else. 

“Just because we can’t be together doesn’t mean we should be alone, right? I know how much you want a family. I want you to be happy.”

 _You are my family,_ Alexei wants to say, but Kent looks close to breaking, and Alexei has never been good at telling him no. “Okay,” he chokes out even though every nerve in his body screams at him to pull Kent closer.

Kent just nods like he hasn’t just shattered Alexei’s entire world. He sits up and pulls on his clothes while Alexei watches, paralyzed. He wants to say something, do something—tell Kent he loves him, beg him to stay—but he can’t find the words. He wraps a hand around Kent’s wrist, stopping him.

Kent gives him a watery smile and presses a salty kiss to his lips. Alexei’s vision blurs, and he curses himself. If this is the last time he gets to kiss Kent, he wants to see him clearly.

“I’m so proud of you,” Kent says, breath hitching the way it does when he tries not to cry. Kent is the one with a Stanley Cup and a C on his chest, but he makes Alexei feel like just existing is enough. He cradles Alexei’s jaw in his hand and brushes away the tears. It’s the worst moment of Alexei’s life, and he wants to live in it forever. “Don’t be a stranger, okay? I’ll see you when you come to Vegas.”

And just like that, Kent walks out of his life.

* * *

_Eric_

Tater answers the door looking worse for wear. His hair looks like a bird’s nest and his arm is in a sling. “Hey, B.”

Eric holds up the pie in his hands. “I brought blueberry.” 

Tater leads him to the kitchen and pulls out a serving knife, closing the drawers with his hip. Eric admires the decor while Tater cuts himself a good fourth of the pie. There isn’t much in the way of appliances, but the fridge is covered in magnets and photos. He doesn’t recognize many of the people, but spots some Falconers, including Jack. One in particular stands out with Jack, Tater, and Kent Parson posing with a trophy.

“How’s your elbow?”

Tater shrugs. “Not too bad. Doctor says it should be completely healed in six, eight weeks. I’ll be fine before playoffs.”

“That’s great news! It’d be terrible if you had to wear a cast at the wedding. How’s the planning going?”

“Is fine. Mariya is in Russia right now making all the plans. Is not big wedding anyway, just at church with family.” He doesn’t seem particularly bothered by this.

“Oh,” Eric says, disappointed. Mariya always throws the nicest get-togethers. Eric was looking forward to seeing her ideas. “Are you going to have a bachelor party here with the team, or just in Russia?”

Tater looks surprised, like thought hasn’t even crossed his mind. “Bachelor party?”

“Yes,” Eric starts to get excited. “You should go all out and celebrate! I’d help you plan too. After all, you only marry your soulmate once.”

Tater tilts his head. “Zimmboni is not telling you?”

“Telling me what?”

“Mariya is not soulmate,” Tater says matter-of-factly.

Eric nearly faints of shock. He’d never have pegged Tater as an anti-soulmate type. He and Mariya seem like such a perfect couple.

“Mariya is good family friend. Her soulmate is not around.”

Eric fumbles for something to say. “I see.” He pauses. “What about you, though? Aren’t you worried about what will happen when you meet your soulmate??

Tater blinks at him. “I’m already meet soulmate.”

 _Dear lord,_ Eric thinks to himself. Jack couldn’t have warned him a little? “Oh? I didn’t know that...What happened to her?” He asks carefully.

“Soulmate is living far away. I can’t give up hockey, and soulmate has own life too. We agree it’s not work.” Tater’s soulmate must live in Russia, Eric realizes. Surely, there is a way for them to make it work if they’re soulmates.

“Don’t you miss her? I mean, hockey doesn’t last forever…” he trails off. Eric can’t even imagine what it would be like watching Jack with someone else.

“Of course I’m miss.” Tater gives him a sad smile. “But that’s life.” He shrugs, cutting another slice of pie and pushing it toward Eric. “You can ask. I know you want too.”

Eric nibbles on a piece of crust. “What’s she like?”

“My soulmate?” Tater raises a brow. “Perfect,” he says, voice affectionate and long-suffering. “Such know it all. Smart, pretty face, strong. Some people give up so easy, but my kotenok never know when to quit. Heart so big too. Takes care of family and friends, but forgets to love self.” He clears his throat, and Eric pretends not to notice him sniffling. “Maybe one day you meet kotenok and see for yourself.”

Eric gives him a comforting smile. ”I’d like that.”

* * *

_Kent_

“Here,” Alexei holds out his fist. They’re on a park bench in Providence overlooking the river, empty take-out containers sprawled between them. The sun is out, but a creeping breeze heralds the end of summer.

Kent eyes it suspiciously. “That better not be another beetle, or I swear to god I’m never sucking your dick again.”

“Was one time! Is not bug, come on,” he shakes his fist insistently until Kent holds out his own hand. It’s a gold chain with two rings. “So you can remember me in Vegas. They were belonging to Dedka and Babka,” he explains.

“You’re giving them to me?” Kent inspects the bands. They’re worn down but obviously well cared for.

“Babka tell me to,” He admits bashfully. “I’m tell her we break up last year and she’s not happy. Hit me so hard, I’m bruised for days.” Alexei rubs the back of his head, remembering it. He’s still beating himself up for last year despite the fact that they both made mistakes. “She’s right. Was stupid choice.”

Kent laughs at the idea of Alexei cowering from his tiny grandmother. They’re in public so he bumps their shoulders in place of a kiss. “I’ll wear it during games. It can be my good luck charm.” Alexei is always giving him so much. Sometimes Kent worries that it bothers him to have a soulmate with less money. “You’re always buying me things,” Kent sighs. “I’ll have to make it up to you when I sign my contract.”

“You don’t need luck, kotenok. You want to give me gift, just let Falconers have chance to win too.”

Kent tosses a used napkin at him. “Not a chance in hell, but nice try.”

* * *

Kent’s finger hovers over the doorbell, and he suddenly remembers the last time he crashed a party at Jack’s house. This is perhaps a bad idea. The only difference is that this time the house is more of a mansion than a condemned frat house, and there’s a distinct lack of drunk co-eds.

“Kenny,” Jack blinks at him.

“Heyyyyy,” he drawls, wishing he could turn right around and head straight back to New York.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m not here to cause any trouble, I swear!” He puts his hands up defensively. “I just wanted to talk to Tates. He said he’d be here?”

“Oh. Uhm, sure, you guys can talk in the guest room,” he gestures down the hall. “I’ll go let him know.”

Kent catches a glimpse of the kitchen on his way and hears the chattering of Falconers gathered on the back porch. The carpet of the guest room is plush under his socked feet, and he takes a seat at the edge of the bed. The room was no doubt decorated by Eric because there’s no way in hell Jack would willingly buy rustic furniture.

“Kent,” Alexei says from the doorway, shaking him out of his daze. 

Kent musters an awkward smile. “Y’know, when Jack said Bittle wanted to throw you a bachelor party, I imagined more vodka and less pie.” The joke falls flat, and he forces a laugh. “Poots told me you’re taking ballroom lessons for the wedding. Kinda reminds me of when Mrs. Zimms tried to teach us.”

He’s met with silence again and clears his throat. “Anyway, sorry for dropping by like this. I just wanted to return these before you left for Russia. I figured you might want them back now.” He hands Alexei the chain his grandma had gifted him. 

“Why you doing this, Kent?”

“What do you mean? I just told you—”

“Not why you give back rings, why you come here!” 

Kent takes a step back. He knows Alexei can be loud, but he’s not used to being on the receiving end. “I don’t understand, why are you yelling at me?”

“You’re always so confusing! Why you need to come here, make me feel bad, make drama?”

“That’s not why I’m here,” Kent stutters. “I told you when you asked that I was okay with you getting married, you know that.”

“Then why you come here to Jack’s house, give back Babka’s gift, and you look at me all sad,” Alexei throws his hands up.

Kent feels his face flush in humiliation. “I’m happy for you, and I came because I really thought you’d want this back, but you can’t seriously expect me to be thrilled about it.”

“You’re such hypocrite,” Alexei bites.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You act like I’m such bad guy! So many years, you’d rather fuck random guys and I’m say nothing—”

His stomach churns. None of those guys meant anything to Kent. He can barely even recall their names or faces. “That’s not fair, and you know it. Yeah, there’s been a _few_ guys, but it’s not the same—”

“How is different—”

“Because it doesn’t _matter!_ It was just sex. It’s not like I’m in love with them. You’re the one who went and found a replacement!” 

“You think I’m replace you? You’re _soulmate_ , you want something you just need to _say!_ You want me cancel wedding, okay. You want me move closer, okay, I’m ask for trade. You just need to tell me, and I give it to you.”

It’s too much to take in. Kent doesn’t even realize he’s crying until Alexei’s expression turns concerned. He reaches out, but Kent dodges his touch. “Don’t.” He throws open the door and finds himself face to face with Jack, urging his fiancé away a moment too late. 

“Kotenok, stop,” Alexei pleads, and Eric gasps. Fuck, how much did he overhear?

“ _Keep it or don’t.”_ The foreign words are rusty on his tongue, but they’re only for Alexei. “ _I don’t care.”_

* * *

_Alexei_

“Bits, why don’t you go check on everyone out back?” 

Bitty hesitates before nodding at his fiancé and walking away.

“I’ll go find him,” Jack says quietly, leaving Alexei alone.

Alexei bows his head, ashamed. Once again, Jack has to pick up the pieces of his relationship. What kind of man can’t even make his soulmate happy? He clutches the necklace, his hands numb. His Babka had called him a fool that first time for letting Kent go. He wonders what she’d say now.

Mariya takes one look at him when he walks through the door and sighs. _“You asshole,”_ she wraps him in a hug. _“You couldn’t do this before I paid the caterer?”_

 _“Please don’t be mad,”_ he begs. There isn’t one good thing in his life he hasn’t managed to fuck up.

She shakes her head. _“You have a soulmate who wants to be with you. How can I blame you for that?”_

* * *

The flight to Vegas is eight hours, and Alexei doesn’t sleep a wink. Other flyers eye him warily as he tries to make himself presentable in the airport bathroom. Alexei knows he’s a big guy, and he doesn’t have the prettiest face—he can look downright scary if he’s not careful. It never seemed to bother Kent, though. He calls a car and goes straight to the apartment.

“Shouldn’t you be in Russia?” Kent answers the door in a baggy tee and sweatpants rolled up to his ankles. His eyes are rimmed red, but he still manages to look artfully disheveled. 

“What’s in Russia? You’re right here.” Alexei tries for charm.

Kent rolls his eyes, motioning him inside. Kit comes running to greet him, nuzzling at his feet. “Judas,” Kent mutters.

Alexei shoos her away. _“Go play, your Papa’s mad at me.”_

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, which is a blatant lie. They both know exactly what Alexei is talking about.

“Enough pretending, kotenok. I’m so sick of this.” He cups Kent’s face. His thumb traces over the freckles on his cheek. “Look at me. Ten years I’m waiting. I’m just want to be with you.”

Kent visibly deflates. “Those other guys didn’t mean anything, I swear. I was just lonely and—”

“Shh, is okay, I know. You’re always tell me ‘be happy’ and I try, but I’m always wish it was you.” The tension bleeds from his body when Kent’s arms wrap around him. Alexei presses a kiss to his head and buries his nose in his hair. “No more secrets. You want to say something, you have to say it, okay? I’m promise I’m listen.”

“No secrets,” Kent agrees, voice small. “I promise.”

Alexei holds him a little tighter.

* * *

_Kent and Alexei_

They sit in comfortable silence in one of the offices at T-Mobile Arena. There’s a knock on the door, and Georgia peeks her head through the crack. 

“Hey, just letting you guys know the press is all set. They’re ready when you are. Take your time.”

“Thanks, George,” Kent musters up a smile despite his nerves.

“You sure about this?” Alexei asks when she closes the door behind her. “Can still change your mind.”

“I think that ship kind of sailed when you posted the ring on Instagram, babe.”

Alexei’s brows furrow in worry. “Maybe we can say it's a prank?”

“Hey, none of that. I’m right here with you.”

Kent’s eyes trace his soulmate. He towers over Kent, even more so than when they were kids. His shoulders are broader now, and his crooked jaw more square. There are lines at the corners of his eyes, no doubt from all the smiling, and his nose is slightly crooked from a fight. Kent’s loved him since the day he knocked on his door in Rimouski. He gives Alexei’s hand a squeeze. He’s never been more sure of anything in his life.


	2. Slow Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> just some bonus scenes/peeks into their lives in "if i go on with you"

“Ow, my foot!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Alexei pulls back, freeing Kent’s toes. Classical music croons from the Zimmermanns’ expensive sound system, mingling with Jack and Alicia’s laughter from the kitchen.

“I thought I was leading,” Kent says.

“No, I’m lead,” Alexei insists.

“Why do you get to lead? No offence, babe, but you kinda suck at this,” Kent wiggles his toes, wincing.

“I’m taller so I’m lead.”

“What’s that got to do with anything?” Kent laughs.

“In movies tall man always leads.”

“Are you calling me the girl in this situation?” Kent slaps the hand that goes for his waist. Alexei knows better than to answer the question. They wrestle over who gets to lead before eventually settling to sway back and forth. The music switches to something new, a soft blues melody. “I like this song,” Kent hums, head against Alexei’s shoulder.

Mrs. Zimmermann was right. This dancing thing isn’t so bad after all.


	3. Kit

To anyone else, the apartment would look sleek and luxurious, but Alexei knows better. He’s seen the clutter Kent leaves in his wake, has spent enough nights visiting Kent’s well lived-in childhood home. To him, the place just looks empty and lifeless.

“You can just leave your shoes by the door,” Kent instructs, kicking off his own sneakers.

“Is nice place,” Alexei comments.

Kent snorts. “It better be. It cost an arm and a leg.” There’s a tinkling noise and the quiet padding of tiny feet down the hall. “There she is,” Kent coos, bending down to pet the cat that weaves around his feet. He picks her up and brings her over. “You wanna make a new friend, princess?”

The kitten mews. Alexei pulls the stuffed mouse from his pocket and dangles it in front of her. _“Catch the mouse, ksksks,”_ he pulls it out of her reach when she bats at it.

“Good girl,” Kent presses a kiss to her nose. “Look at that, she’s bilingual.”

Alexei rolls his eyes. “Yes, very smart, just like her Papa.”


	4. Photograph

“You’re such an old man, Zimms.”

The camera is vintage, something he found in his dad’s storage. Jack fumbles to insert the film with the bus rocking over a bumpy road. “I think it’s cool,” Jack says defensively.

“You should get one of those flip cameras. Did you see those hockey player commercials?” Kent leans forward into the space between Jack’s seat and Tater’s. He pokes Tater on the cheek. “Say the thing.”

“Anuzah day at ze office,” Tater drawls, playing up his accent to Kent’s delight.

Jack snaps a picture.

“Hey, I wasn’t ready!” Kent whines, and the teammate sitting beside him groans in his sleep. Kent stands, obviously not wearing his seatbelt, and wraps Tater in a playful chokehold. Tater impressively shows no reaction, resigned to the fact that he’s stuck with this for life. “Okay, say cheese!”

"Cheese," Tater deadpans.

The picture comes out shaky, but Kent insists that Jack makes two copies for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OG pens fans remember the iconic commercial Kent references


	5. Fever

Alexei can’t stop shivering. He’s wearing two layers and cocooned in the flimsy hotel blanket, and the constant trickle in his throat keeps making him cough. He feels guilty about that—Jack had assured him that he wasn’t bothered, but he seemed peeved when he tried to take his pre-game nap. Luckily, Jack came back before dinner and let him know the team had won. 

The room is completely dark by the time Alexei hears the door unlock and light leaks in from the hallway. He hears Jack putter around briefly before coming closer. Instead of stopping at his bed, he bafflingly sits on the edge of Alexei’s bed. Before he can ask what Jack wants, he feels fingers comb through his hair.

“Слышь!” Alexei exclaims, pulling away. In his muddled state of mind, he struggles to switch to English. _“What the fuck?”_ He makes a futile, sluggish attempt to bat the hand away.

“Calm down, it’s just me.” It’s Kent’s voice, much to Alexei’s relief. 

“Mrgh...Jack?”

“I asked him to switch rooms with me. Wait, did you think I was him?” Kent laughs softly.

Alexei burrows deeper into the sheets.

“This better not be a regular occurrence with him,” Kent teases. There’s some rustling, then Kent hands him two pills. “Here, take these. I called my mom and she said it should help when your fever breaks.”

Alexei gulps down the medicine, wincing at his sore throat. Kent gets up, to Alexei’s displeasure, but comes back a moment later with the blanket from Jack’s bed. He tucks it around Alexei, then crawls into bed. 

“Wake me up if you need something, okay?” Kent curls up against his back, blanketing him in warmth. Alexei sleeps a little easier that night.


	6. Secrets

No secrets. That’s the promise they made. So, Alexei wonders, what is Kent being so goddamn secretive about? He’s not good at hiding it. Kent knows he’s a bad liar, so he just avoids talking at all. To anyone who actually knows Kent, it’s a dead giveaway.

They’re lounging in bed on a weekend morning. Alexei’s working on a crossword because Mitya insists it helps with English. Kent is watching some science documentary on the TV. 

“Kotenok.”

“Hmm?”

“Is something wrong?”

Kent tears his eyes away from the screen. “What would be wrong?”

“You are...acting kind of weird lately.”

Kent’s eyes flit away guiltily. 

“Please. No secrets, remember?”

Kent fiddles with the remote then sighs. “You’re right.” He opens the drawer of his bedside table and pulls out a familiar gold chain.

“I want you to have this.”

Alexei’s heart sinks. The last time Kent tried to give it back…

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Why?” Alexei chokes out. He’d thought they would finally be together for good.

“Because I love you.” Kent tilts his head up, and a glint catches his eye. His grandparents’ rings, right next to Kent’s dog tag like they always are. He looks closer at the necklace in his hands.

“These are new rings.”

“For us.” 

Oh.

He swoops Kent up in a big kiss. “You give me heart attack,” he laughs between pecks. 

“Sorry, maybe I should have thought it through more.”

“No, is perfect,” he noses at Kent’s pulse. “Well, one problem.”

“What’s that?”

Alexei pulls away to grab a small velvet box from his own nightstand. “Now you have two.”


End file.
